Body Work
by Catastrophe Girlfriend
Summary: Santana is sick of being in second place; David is tired of second guessing. So they come up with a plan to fix it. Karopez friendship/Brittana/Kurtofsky. M for language and explicit content.
1. I Still Wanna See You Tonight

**Author's Note: **The title _is_ taken from the Tegan and Sara song. Read the lyrics, it makes sense. Also, I don't own Glee, yadda ya.

"_Say you love me back. Please."_

The words haunted her. Laying here alone in her bed, Santana wished she could just take them back. If she had just kept quiet, none of this would be happening. Brittany wouldn't be breathing down her neck to come out, she wouldn't have to date Karofsky, and she certainly wouldn't have to worry so much about someone finding out. When she hid it, there was no chance of anyone finding out. God damn it, why did she tell Britt at the locker? At the time, it had been something she couldn't hold in anymore. But hindsight is 20/20. She ignored the tears threatening at her eyes and grabbed her phone from the bedside table. She wasn't paying attention; the first number she dialed was Brittany's. Realizing her mistake, she hit end, and scrolled through her contacts for Karofsky.

It only rang twice. "Hello?"

"I need you…to do something for me." She said slowly, carefully keeping the sadness from her voice."

"Is this more blackmail?" he asked, sounding nervous.

"No, David. This is personal. Do you know where I live?"

"Lima Height Adjacent. At least, that's what you screamed down the hallways…" he laughed a little. Their relationship was becoming more comfortable. This would probably ruin that.

"It's the nice neighborhood, don't worry." She replied, also laughing. "My parents are still out. You can stay the night, they won't notice. Please. Just…come over."

She gave him the address, and waited. While she waited, her thoughts were a mess. Brittany. Puck. Faceless jocks whose names she barely remembered. Letting a teacher fondle her new breasts for extra credit. She hated herself. Maybe all of it was just a cover, but that didn't make it any better. The thought of Brittany, sweet, soft, completely happy to be beneath her crossed her mind, and she shoved it away. Santana knew she didn't deserve those thoughts tonight.

When Karofsky arrived, she met him at the door, dressed in lingerie. His face went red, and he turned away, stammering. "S-Santana, I don't know if you forgot, but—"

"David." She whispered, slinking closer. "I want you to fuck me."

"I-Is that part of being beards?" he murmured, looking away, his eyes darting everywhere but her.

"Yes." She replied matter-of-factly. "Maybe we can get over it this way."

"No, no, Santana—"

She kissed him. He wasn't exactly responsive, but she went with it anyways. After a few minutes of that, she led him upstairs to her bedroom. The lamp was on now, giving everything false cheer. They both stared at it for a second. Karofsky was the one to turn it off. It wasn't that they couldn't stand the sight of each other…They just couldn't stand themselves in the light. His hands were fumbling. With a slight pang of guilt, Santana realized he was a virgin. It made sense, but she still hadn't expected it. So she took the lead, guiding his hands.

"Santana…" He sounded close to tears. She ignored him, undoing his pants and sliding them down.

"It'll work. Pretend I'm Kurt, I don't care. Please, David, I just…" She almost had to sit back and cry.

His lips were on hers, rough, unforgiving. He pinned her below him, hands running over her breasts gingerly. Grasping his hand, she made him hold on tighter, viciously kissing back. They were both crying at this point, tears streaming silently. He shook his head, and she tried to capture his lips again, but he refused to let her. "No." he said, simply. She felt the shudder go through his body, and she began to sob. They held each other close, but neither of them tried to go further. She didn't know how long they cried. They both went quiet around the same time though, still embracing in a death grip.

"David?" she said, her voice rough. He didn't answer. "I'm sorry." She whispered. His only response was to hold her closer.


	2. You Do Your Body Work

"Where were you last night?"

Santana hadn't been expecting Britt to just confront her like that. She balked, looking around trying to find an escape. The blonde continued to stand there. She didn't seem angry…just hurt. Finding no way out, Santana sighed heavily, clutching at her locker for support. "It's… It's nothing personal." She replied. "I just…"

"Can't. I know. I can read."

"…Look, Brittany. I was…I was just at home. Sitting in my room." _Hating myself_.

"You should have come on the show. I thought you loved me, Santana."

With those words, Santana looked around, making sure no one had heard. Brittany rolled her eyes. "Whatever. You can have Karofsky, I don't care."

God, why did everything have to hurt so badly? She was still clutching at her locker like it was going to save her, and she wanted to cry so much. Why did they always have these conversations in the hallway? Why couldn't it be somewhere nice and private so that she could break down afterwards? She reached up, pulling the red beret off her head. Some gay crusader she was.

"Excuse me, but we're still on duty. Put your uniform back on."

She smiled at David, despite everything. He pulled her into his arms, and she thought she would fall to pieces. "About last night—" she started, but he shook his head. She was grateful for that. Talking about it would only make it worse somehow. After a few seconds, he pulled away, and stuck the beret back on her head.

"I've got to walk Kurt to class."

As if on cue, Kurt appeared at the end of the hall, and she watched as David hurried to join him. He stopped short next to the smaller boy, and she saw his hand twitch. _Please don't. _ She thought. _Don't ruin everything._ But there was no accompanying shove. David pulled his hand back, and Kut never noticed. The two disappeared around the corner, and she breathed a sigh of relief. The girl standing at the locker next to her gave her a strange look.

"What the hell are you looking at?" Santana snapped.

There was nothing quite as satisfying as seeing something cringe away from her.

XXXXXXXXXXX

After leaving Kurt at his classroom, David hurried away. He burst into the locker room, shaking all over. Thankfully, he was alone. God, it was so _hard_ to just walk next to him. Santana probably thought it was a struggle not to shove the other boy, but that wasn't the case at all. He just wanted…he just wanted to touch him. Not in a sexual way. Just to feel something, anything that felt right. He leaned against the lockers, exhaling a shaky breath. When he was completely sure he was alone, he slid down, hiding his face in his hands.

He never used to cry. At first, it had been a minor annoyance. Noticing things about the other guys that he shouldn't. Like how good they looked in their jeans, how muscular a particular guy on the hockey team was getting. Then Kurt Hummel had come out. And despite everything, despite the fact that they had nothing in common, David fell in love with him. He was in love with the way Kurt walked around like he owned the place. He was in love with the way he wore whatever he wanted.

It scared the shit out of him, and at the same time, made him insanely jealous. David knew that he could never come out. His parents would disown him, his friends would mock him. If he had ever thought about it seriously, it had been to admit his feelings for Kurt. But now the other boy had Blaine, and what was the point of coming out, only to be rejected? Clenching his eyes shut, he tried to push the image of the couple holding hands as they strolled into the benefit. It wasn't fair, it just _wasn't._

But he had done this to himself. By bullying Kurt, by being so afraid, he'd chased the other right into pretty boy's arms. It might not have been fair, but he had no one to blame but himself. Lifting his head, he covered his mouth, trying to keep quiet. He just had to get through the day. Then he could go home and focus on getting through the night. Rinse and repeat. Everything was a step at a time.

He stood up, determined to do something productive with the rest of his free period. Standing in front of the mirror, he wiped at his eyes, waited till his face wasn't red anymore, and changed into workout clothes. He spent most of his free time running and lifting weights, anything active and athletic. Because despite everything, one phrase would always stick in his head.

_I don't dig on chubby boys who sweat too much and are going to be bald by the time they're thirty._

XXXXXXXXXXX

Oh, Glee club. Santana loved it and despised it at the same time. Mostly, she hated listening to Artie try and sing to Brittany. But she also hated watching everyone get sung to… except her. No one ever tried to sing to her. Dueting "Landslide" with Brittany almost counted. But that had been more her singing to Britt. Shaking her head, she tried to pay attention to what they were talking about.

The word written on the board was "prom." She cringed. Sam spoke up before she had a chance to. "Please tell me we're not doing songs about prom."

Mr. Schue outlined the plan, and she couldn't help but feel a little more miserable. This was going to be the worst prom ever. She was stuck going with David, she didn't have a chance to win queen, not with Princess Fabray in the running…and now she was going to have to work, too. But then she looked over, and saw how excited Brittany looked. Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be all bad. Maybe she could still enjoy this.


	3. When All Security Fails

**Author's Note: Thanks to all of the people on Tumblr who have been checking this out. That's the only way I could account for 536 views on the day the chapter was uploaded. Because I certainly don't know that many people. Or tell people I write fanfiction. xD Anyways, here's chapter three. It's basically just my fanon version of the prom episode.**

Contrary to popular belief, David took his job as a Bullywhip seriously. Walking Kurt to class was one of the few things he could take pride in. So every day, he looked around carefully, escorting Kurt like he was the president. They rounded a corner, and he finally spoke up. "Here we are. Third period, French class. I'm going to Calculus. Wait inside the classroom until I come back to walk you to lunch."

Kurt gave him a look, and replied, "Have you noticed that no one has said boo to me this week?"

David grinned. He was particularly proud of that. "That's because the Bullywhips are protecting you."

"Right. Or…maybe no one has said anything because no one cares."

"You dreaming." He mumbled, looking around. This was the major difference between him and Kurt. Kurt had hope. He believed that these people could learn to not care. But having been one of "these people", David knew it was never going to happen.

"Look, I'm not saying that everyone here is ready to embrace the gay, but maybe they've evolved enough to be indifferent."

Those blue eyes were piercing him to the core. He started down at the ground to avoid them. But Kurt kept talking, kept piling on the pain. "I see how miserable you are David. I could just hate you when you were bullying me, but now…all I see is your pain."

David tried so hard to hold it in. That surge of emotion. But he couldn't. There was a lump in his throat and tears were welling up in his eyes. "What?" Kurt asked.

Everything crumbled. Crashing into the wall next to him, he pulled off the ridiculous beret, and stammered out, "I'm so…I just so fucking sorry for what I did to you, Kurt." In that moment, he didn't care if anyone heard or saw. He just needed the other boy to know that. This wasn't some fake apology like the one he'd delivered to Glee club. The guilt he lived with every day was beginning to consume him. Back at home, his closet ceiling was full of holes. Three or four from the day of the kiss. A few more from the first time Blaine had shown up. A slew of them from the night of the benefit.

"I know." Kurt replied, twitching just a little, like he was about to hug him. "I know."

David straightened up before Kurt could move any closer. "Cool." He muttered, wiping at his eyes and clearing his throat. "Thanks." He glanced around, and said, "You wait for me here, okay?" Before the other could say anything else, he hurried off. His head was a mess, but his heart was singing.

XXXXXXXXXX

The night of prom, Santana stood in front of her mirror, completely miserable. Her parents weren't home to take pictures. David would be there to pick her up in a few minutes, and they would pretend to be in love. The thought made her want to throw up. Brittany would be there, dancing with everyone but her. Was it too much to ask for one dance? Just one? With a sigh, she pulled her hair over her shoulder, and adjusted the strap of her dress. The doorbell rang, and she hurried downstairs.

David looked awkward, standing in her doorway. He had cleaned up nicely though. With a shaking hand (no, it didn't go unnoticed) he offered her a box, and she smiled as she opened it. "You got the right color."

"It's kind of hard to fuck up red." He replied, face flushing.

"Look." She said. "I know you don't want to go. But just think of what it's going to be like when we win."

He nodded resolutely, and they went out to his rattling truck. The ride was silent, but once they were on school property, both of them were all smiles and fun. He held her hand, and she was secretly glad for the support. Once inside, they stood by the punch bowl, looking away from each other. Her eyes were focused on Brittany, dancing with Mike Chang while Tina and Mercedes cheered them on. She glanced over at David to find him starting at Kurt, and unmistakable longing in his eyes. God, they were a pathetic pair.

"Come on." She said, "Let's dance."

And they did. For a few minutes, she was able to forget her misery. It was plain, simple fun. Of course, Puck, Sam, and Artie were doing that terrible "Friday" song, so she couldn't help but laugh. Everything was finally going her way. Finally, it was time for the results. She took her place on the stage, giving David the most brilliant smile of the evening. He smiled back, and she turned to look out at the crowd. Her eyes met Brittany's, and the blonde gave her a huge smile as well. In that moment, she knew they'd won.

"And the 2011 junior prom king is… David Karofsky!"

The reaction was immediate. She started jumping up and down, and yelled in Quinn's face, "You suck so bad Quinn Fabray, I won!"

But something was wrong. Figgins had gone completely quiet. His face was set in stone as he read the next ballot. "Your junior prom queen is…Kurt Hummel."

Everything went silent. Someone tried to clap, but it didn't catch on. Santana's breath caught in her throat, and she looked over at David. He had a look of utter panic on his face. Kurt ran out of the gym, and she knew she had to do the same. She didn't expect Brittany to follow her to the empty classroom, however. She couldn't speak, she was so overcome. Finally, she said, "They must have known I was a lesbian."

Brittany looked completely exasperated at that. Instead of trying to explain, Santana moved forward. "All I wanted was to win. So…So I could…"

"Could what, San?" Brittany asked, a confused look on her face.

"So I could be with you."

XXXXXXXXXXX

When Kurt re-entered the gym, David's heart skipped a beat. He hadn't expected that. Standing up on the stage, alone and miserable, he watched as the smaller boy threaded his way through the crowd to accept his crown. And then, he said the absolute perfect thing. "Eat your heart out, Kate Middleton." Despite everything, David smiled.

The smile slid off his face as Figgins announced that they would share the traditional first dance. Kurt was looking at him expectantly, and the whole gym was watching. He stepped forward, and Kurt whispered. "Now's your chance."

"What?"

"Come out. Make a difference."

The music was starting. He looked around at all the expectant faces, and finally, Kurt's. "…I can't." he said, truly regretting it. His heart was shattering as the disappointment showed up in Kurt's expression.

Without another word, he turned away, striding out of the gym. This was supposed to be his night. He and Santana were finally going to get what they deserved, the love, the popularity… It hit him that this was exactly what he deserved. To spend prom miserable and alone. Without thinking, he went to the locker room. Once inside, he started punching the lockers. Over and over again, until it hurt, until he bled, he kept hitting them, until finally, it was too much. He sank to his knees, sobbing. The music echoed through the halls, and he could hear Santana singing.

This was how it was meant to be. Everyone together and happy. Except him. David knew he didn't deserve happiness.


End file.
